


"And I Can't Stand Blood"

by That_Guy_Morg



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: About a character no one talks about, Albert Race and Boots are a squad change my mind, Fainting, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Lol I'm making a whumpfic based off of a line no one cares about, No Romance, No one's gonna read this lol, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22315189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Guy_Morg/pseuds/That_Guy_Morg
Summary: Boots was a curious boy in every sense of the word.Go ahead and ask any Manhattan Newsie about the young boy and you would get a multitude of different answers. Some would describe him as quiet and reserved, while others would simply say that he was loud and attention-stealing. A handful would say that he was friendly while another would say that he was reserved and snappy.The truth was that Boots simply knew his audience, and he knew it well. The kid could read a room like a book and know exactly how to act to make everyone feel comfortable. He didn’t do it for selfish reasons, he just enjoyed the feeling of making the people he cared for smile, and he’d do anything to achieve that if you were special enough to him. Sometimes that involved throwing himself miles out of his comfort zone. Sometimes he got hurt and didn’t know what excuse to use afterward.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva & Boots (Newsies) & Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva & Racetrack Higgins, Boots (Newsies) & Albert DaSilva, Boots (Newsies) & Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	"And I Can't Stand Blood"

Boots was a curious boy in every sense of the word.

Go ahead and ask any Manhattan Newsie about the young boy and you would get a multitude of different answers. Some would describe him as quiet and reserved, while others would simply say that he was loud and attention-stealing. A handful would say that he was friendly while another would say that he was reserved and snappy.

The truth was that Boots simply knew his audience, and he knew it well. The kid could read a room like a book and know exactly how to act to make everyone feel comfortable. He didn’t do it for selfish reasons, he just enjoyed the feeling of making the people he cared for smile, and he’d do anything to achieve that if you were special enough to him. Sometimes that involved throwing himself miles out of his comfort zone. Sometimes he got hurt and didn’t know what excuse to use afterward.

\----

Boots, Racetrack, and Albert were messing around at Sheepshead, betting on horses and hollering loudly. Albert and Boots laughed when Racer once again lost miserably, swiped some snacks, and swore loudly at grouchy old men who were bothering younger visitors at the track.

By the time they left, the sun was just setting and families were beginning to pile into their home. All Albert was thinking about was getting across the bridge and back home to Manhattan. Racer, however, hand plans of his own that today gave him a pang of guilt whenever he thought about it.

“How about we take a detour.” Racer grinned, grabbing ahold of Boots’ elbow and pulling him down a hill that led to a river. Albert bit the inside of his cheek, staring at the direction of the bridge before following close behind.

“Goddamnit Racer- we have rivers in Manhattan!” Albert whispered when all three got onto flat ground. Between the grass they stood on, there was a wall of rocks and pebbles that separated the ground and fast running river. 

“‘Hattan rivers ain’t the same as Brooklyn rivers.” Race said stubbornly. He scooped a few pebbles into his palm, promptly flicking a few into the body of water in front of them. “‘Sides, I wanna blow off some steam or else I’ll never get sleep tonight. C’mon Boots, let’s have some fun so Albert can be a grouch by himself.” Racer teased, narrowing his eyes playfully at the Ginger that stood before him.

Boots couldn’t help but let out a snort as Albert mocked offense, motivating him to scoop up rocks of his own to toss with Race. It truly didn’t take long for Albert to join in with the shenanigans that he had protested only moments ago.

The sight and sound of rocks colliding with water were oddly satisfying. Boots couldn’t explain it, but a time waster such as this made him happy. Maybe it was the satisfaction of finally skipping a pebble thrice on the water. Maybe it was the simple act of being with friends and spending time with people that he genuinely enjoyed being with. He couldn’t explain it, but he for sure didn’t want it to end. Not for anything.

Race surprised the two when he removed his shoes and socks, rolling up his pants up and over his knees. He slowly began to hobble his way across the bed of rocks to pick on ones closer to the river. His fingertips brushed against the running water, causing him to shudder slightly at the icy sensation that crawled up his arm.

“Racer what are you doin’?” Albert huffed, not quite impressed at his best friend’s antics. Boots just blinked at him, pursing his lips in thoughts. Racer suddenly began to stumble over rocks, yelping as he tripped and landing on his hands and knees. “Damnit- I told you this was a bad idea !! Get your ass back here.” Albert scolded, worry dripping from his tone as he placed the rocks back down, Boots doing the same.

Racer grumbled, getting back on his bare feet shakily as he began to stumble back over to his companions. Boots immediately notices Racer’s cut and scabbed knees as they began to bleed down his legs. The blood was bright red and it dribbled quickly down to his shins. Boots hands began to crawl with a clammy sensation, head beginning to spin in circles. His vision became blurred, ears ringing when he heard the suddenly distant voice of Albert, asking if he was doing okay. Boots knew what was happening; it had happened before. He couldn’t do anything but mumble something incoherently as he began to tip back, fumbling to grip Albert’s vest desperately in a final attempt to cling to consciousness. 

See, fainting wasn’t an uncommon event amongst Newsies (especially during the summer). The Newsies were a ragtag gang of malnourished, overworked boys whose bodies constantly needed a break, leading to Newsies finding their friends slumped against walls in alleyways, papes strewed around them in a useless attempt to keep track of them.

Albert’s attention quickly went to Boots when he saw the kid swaying slightly in his peripheral vision. He snapped his head to look at him and his suspicion seemed to be right. Boots looked out of it, staring into space as his hands began to tremble slightly. He was showing all the telltale signs and Albert jumped into action. He placed a hand behind the younger boy’s back, stepping closer to him.

“Hey, Boots. You doin’ okay, bud?” Albert asked, eyebrows knitted together in concern. Boots opened his mouth to respond but only letting out a slurred, incoherent string of mumbles as his eyes rolled back into his head. Albert felt Boots grip his vest desperately as he slumped back against Albert’s hand, letting go.

Race scattered forward when he saw Boots slump back. He grabbed ahold of his shoulders to keep him up when his knees gave out. Albert wrapped his arms around Boots’ thin waist, keeping him up on weak knees as his head lolled back weakly, letting out a sigh.

“Lay him down…” Racer mumbled desperately. Albert didn’t need to be told twice. He slowly began to lower Boots to the ground, hat tipping off of his head and down to grass shortly before Boots was laid down. Racer snatched his own and Albert’s hat off of his head, piling their’s and Boots’ behind Boots’ head for support. Boots was slack. His hands limply laid by his side, shoulders slumped.

“Racer, get some water,” Albert muttered, gently patting Boots’ cheek in an attempt to rouse him once more, crouched beside the boy’s head. “C’mon lil’ buddy…” Albert whispered encouragingly despite Boots not being able to hear him.

“Al, he can’t drink that shit,” Racer muttered in confusion. “It’s too dirty.”

“Of course he’s not gonna drink it !!” Albert huffed. “It’s to wake him up…” he explained, not taking his eyes off of the unconscious boy in front of him.

Racer nodded, shuffling back over to the river, scooping water into his hands, shuddering once more. He walked back over to the two, crouching beside Boots. He carefully poured the water onto Boots’ face. Boots let out a gasp, shoulder jolting as he snapped to sit up. He immediately paused, groaning as he placed a hand on his forehead.

“Woah- slow down there buddy. We can’t have you passin’ out on us again.” Albert chuckled nervously, placing his hands on Boots’ shoulders to assist in lowering him down to his back once more. “You’re all good, okay? We’se gots all the time in the world.”

“God-” Boots muttered, glancing around to see Race smiling at him comfortingly as he began to run his thumb across Boots’ knuckles. “I’m sorry guys… I didn’t mean- I tried to-”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, buddy…” Racer interrupted, placing his hand up as a gesture for him to stop talking. “It ain’t your fault. But I think we need to talk about it when we get back so it don’t happen again. Okay?” Racer said softly, earning a nod from the young boy. Boots proceeded to close his eyes, breathing in and out slowly to get his mind back on the right track.

After about five minutes, Albert began to assist Boots to his feet by hooking his arms under Boots’ armpits. However, when he got to his feet, Boots immediately needed support. He leaned back against Albert, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping his arm desperately.

“Boots, I think we’re gonna have to carry you home unless you wanna stay out when the sun comes back up.” Albert sighed softly, looking down at the boy in his arms. Boots looked down in slight embarrassment. One thing that Manhattan Newsies had in common was that they had pride. Even though no one was out anymore, Boots didn’t exactly enjoy thinking about being hauled into the Lodging House like some kind of swooning lady.

“I won’t carry you like deadweight, Boots,” Albert stated, patting his shoulder gently. “Hop on my back and we’ll get ya’ home safe and sound. Sound good?” he offered, earning a nod from Boots. Albert turned around crouching down so that Boots could crawl up onto his back. Boots wrapped his arms around Albert’s shoulders as Albert stood up straight, supporting Boot’s knees with his hands.

Racer collected their hats, pulling on his socks and boots, and rolling down his pants to hide the blood before following close behind them as they crawled up the hill. Racer managed to balance all three of their hats on top of his head as they made their way back on the sidewalk. Racer couldn’t ignore the stupid guilt in the pit of his stomach as he saw Boots rest his head against Albert’s shoulder tiredly. If Racer hadn’t decided to take a detour, Boots probably wouldn’t have collapsed and they would have been home already.

He subconsciously knew that it wasn’t his fault, of course. But he just couldn’t shake the aching feeling in his stomach.

\----

Boots was a curious boy in every sense of the word.

It took two days for Boots to admit to Racer and Albert that he couldn’t stand blood. He was just embarrassed and was scared that the two people that he looked up to so highly would begin to treat him like a little kid. To his surprise, however, they understood. They made sure that it wouldn’t happen again and promised not to tell anyone until he was ready. Other than that, it was all the same and it didn’t happen again.


End file.
